


Steele

by BingeMac



Category: Belinda Blinked Series - Rocky Flintstone, My Dad Wrote A Porno (Podcast)
Genre: Dom/sub, Fingerfucking, Multi, Porn With Plot, The crazy world of Steele's Pots and Pans, Voyeurism, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:13:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24596578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BingeMac/pseuds/BingeMac
Summary: Belinda Blumenthal is going to win everyone over.  Just watch her.
Relationships: Belinda Blumenthal/Other(s)
Kudos: 6





	Steele

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- So… I wanted to try my hand at writing sex scenes and Belinda Blinked seemed like the perfect fandom to play around with. Because I have to be better at this than Rocky, right?
> 
> Anyway, I started writing and now… I mean I think I might just end up writing a whole legit story. I’m going to follow the outline of Belinda Blinked (crazy plot and all) as much as I can, but I think I’ll actually give Belinda and everyone else character development. I’ll make it an actual story, hopefully. And of course, lots of sex with lots of Dom/Sub undertones (and not so undertones). If you have any constructive criticism, please let me know. :)

The MD’s office was all stark lines and polished surfaces. The only exception was a bookshelf that lined the eastern wall. It was filled to the brim with trinkets and picture frames. In one of those frames, I could see the MD, Tony, with a casual arm thrown over the shoulder of another man, one that resembled him too closely not to be a relative of some sort. I guessed brother. The two men were dressed in British Army uniforms, and the contrast between the man in the picture and the one perusing my CV opposite me was stifling.

Tony Sylvester had let his dark hair grow long since leaving the military. It was pulled out of his face by an elastic which allowed the thick black frames of his glasses to stand out on his handsome face. He didn’t smile like the man in the picture, all easy and casual. This man’s grin was sharp, lethal. 

It left me a bit breathless.

Tony flipped to the second page of my CV, drawing my eyes to his long fingers. I couldn’t pull my gaze away from them as they drummed on the dark wood desk. The rhythm they made was steady and purposeful, belying any notion that he wasn’t completely aware of his every sinful movement.

I clutched at the arms of my chair, my nails digging into the leather. I wanted him. Now.

As if Tony could read my thoughts, his piercing blue gaze flashed up from the sheet in his hand and his mouth curved into a wicked smirk. There was a delightful moment where no one said a word, where Tony simply watched me, his eyes tinged with humor, as if I was an adorable little plaything he couldn’t wait to ravish.

I could feel my blood simmer just below the skin’s surface at the thought.

“Well, I must say, this was a most interesting read, Miss Blumenthal.” 

My CV was set almost lovingly onto his desk, drawing my eyes to those fingers once more. I watched, captivated, as Tony brought his hands up and steepled them together in front of his face. His blue eyes came into focus behind his hands, and he wore an amused expression, as if he knew exactly what was going on inside my head, what he was doing to me.

Bastard.

“Thank you?” I wasn’t sure if his use of the word “interesting” to describe my previous employment was a compliment or not.

“Typhoid Crockery Holdings,” mused Tony, a pointer finger delicately running along those three words on the page in front of him. He winked at me. “And I thought our company’s name was bad.”

I laughed and Tony grinned as well. I saw a brief glimpse of the man he used to be as the corners of his eyes crinkled with undisguised mirth. But it disappeared quickly and left me absurdly heartbroken.

“You seem well suited for the job of International Sales Director, Belinda.” His words left me cold and wanting. I heard the “but” before he said it. “But… I’m not so sure you are suited for Steele’s Pots and Pans.”

I blinked, my blood boiling for completely different reasons now.

“Why would you think that?” I asked through clenched teeth.

Tony tilted his head slightly and studied me for a long moment. I could almost feel his penetrative gaze against my skin and I could feel my skin flushing bright red at the attention.

Slowly, and oh so deliberately, Tony rose from his seat, his fingers splayed across the desk in front of him. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, but he seemed to fill up the whole office with his presence. I felt my heart rate speed up and beat wildly against my ribcage. It was dizzying and perfect.

“We do things a little differently here at Steele’s,” Tony explained. That annoying smirk was starting to be a permanent fixture on his face. I wasn’t complaining.

“Oh?”

Tony watched me closely from his standing position for an excruciating moment. Then he leaned across the desk and thumbed the intercom. “Send in Bill,” he demanded.

The silence that followed was tense and delicious. I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to, my body taut as an arrow under the MD’s steady gaze. And when Bill arrived, I was speechless for an entirely different reason

Was everyone in this company unnervingly gorgeous?

Bill was a tall drink of water with dark auburn hair and hazel eyes. He was broad-shouldered and his pectoral and abominable muscles pushed up against the fabric of his fitted dress shirt so that I could see every contour. My mouth watered at the sight.

Bill looked down at me from his considerable height, his face impassive. He almost looked bored with me. “This one?” he asked in a deep baritone that went straight to my pussy.

I caught Tony’s slow grin out of the corner of my eye. “I think so. What are your impressions?”

Bill spared me one last fleeting glance before humming noncommittally and making his way to the armchair in the corner of Tony’s office. He pulled out his smartphone and began tapping away at the screen. 

Tony rounded the desk and stepped into my line of sight, his eyes bright and dangerous. I instinctively flinch back into my seat. Not out of fear, but out of submission. I feel heady as Tony steps closer to me, his long legs just as graceful as his fingers. He seems to have full control over every inch of his body and it’s intoxicating to witness him in action.

He slowly dances by me until I can no longer see him in my peripherals. I’d have to turn my head to see him now, but I can’t. Not when he brushes my bare shoulder as he slides behind me. Not when he curls a finger in my dark hair and pulls oh so gently. Not when he leans down and murmurs deliciously against my left ear, “Bill is our Head of Human Resources.” It’s all I can do to breathe. Over my right shoulder, I can feel the sleeve of his suit jacket against my skin as he rests a hand over my collarbone. “He’s also in charge of our protection detail.”

I gasp, bringing my skin more flush against his splayed hand over my chest. I blink away the overstimulation Tony’s close presence is creating, trying to focus on the MD’s words. “Protection detail?”

Tony’s answering chuckle leaves me feeling exposed and vulnerable. I relish in it.

“Like I said, we do things differently at Steele’s, Miss Blumenthal. For example…” Tony’s deft fingers slide up my chest and arch around my throat. He doesn’t squeeze, but it’s a close thing. My toes curl in my black heels. “The first question in our new hire paperwork: What’s your safe word?”

Suddenly, the hand is gone and Tony steps away, leaving my skin prickling with goose-pimples at the rush of cool air.

My eyes lose their previous haziness and I can see Bill from HR still tapping away at his phone, seemingly unaffected by the lack of oxygen in the room. I tense as Tony rounds me once more, his blue eyes behind those thick framed glasses taking up all my vision. He leans close, his fingers curling over mine where they had been clutching at the leather arms with a ferocity I didn’t know I had. My legs were shaking under my skirt.

“So?” Tony raised a singular eyebrow, waiting.

Safe word. Right.

I should leave. I should get up right now, leave this office, this company, these beautiful men with their wild words, and never look back. Tony was right earlier when we spoke about my CV. I am perfect for the job of International Sales Director. And I can find that same position at any old company. I don’t need to work here.

But maybe I want to.

I raise my gaze to meet Tony’s. His eyes are even more blue up close and I feel like I could drown in them if I’m not careful. That smirk is still on his lips, like he knows, like he’s known since I walked in the building. 

That I was his. That I was Steele’s.

He was right.

“Turkey.”

Tony leaned back just a bit, just enough that I could catch the look of surprise that shifted his smirk into an “o”. I want to shock him again, to make that look last longer than the mere second I was allowed this time. I would make it my mission to surprise and delight whenever I saw him.

Tony grinned and chuckled as he righted himself. “What a safe word you’ve chosen, dear Belinda! I have a feeling you won’t be using it too often.” He cast his gaze down to meet mine again, clear permission to refute him in his eyes.

“No, sir,” I agreed, honestly.

Tony chuckled again. I felt his hand on my knee as he unceremoniously uncrossed my legs and settled himself between them. “Good girl.”

The praise went straight to my cunt and I couldn’t stifle the small moan that escaped my lips as he ran his fingers up my skirt. He widened his stance, pulling my legs further apart, and I felt on display in the best way.

Tony’s hands reached the lining of my thong and he ran a single index finger along the cotton fabric. I convulsed. All this pent up tension had left me wet and wanton.

“So eager,” Tony said, a hint of disapproval in his tone that had my heart racing. “Have you been wet since you entered my office?” 

I choke on my answer because Tony had pulled my thong to one side and was teasing my clitoris with those perfect fingers. He continued as if I’d answered affirmatively.

“Dirty girl.” He was all condemnation. Tony’s gaze flicked over his shoulder to the giant of a man in his corner armchair. “You should feel her, Bill. My fingers are soaked.”

I blushed a deep scarlet as Bill glanced up from his phone for the first time since entering the room. He looked me up and down and then returned to his emails. “No thank you.”

His disinterest hit me like a freight train. I whipped my head back and moaned as Tony’s fingers delved inside me, first one, then another. My back arched, by nipples pressing against the confines of my bra. They were so hard, I was sure they’d pierce the cotton. It had been so long since I’d felt like this, and this was just foreplay.

“That’s it,” Tony murmured as he littered kisses along my inner thigh. His lips were just as precise as everything else about Tony Sylvester. This man was going to kill me. “Beg me to let you come.”

My body was on fire. I was so close already, but Tony knew how to keep me on the edge. I knew if I didn’t plead now, he’d pull out completely and leave me to my own devices. Orgasm denial was fun sometimes, and maybe during future scenes of this nature, I’d make it last. But not now. Now I wanted to come. I’ve never wanted it more in my life.

“Please,” I beg.

“What’s that? What do you want, Miss Blumenthal?”

“Please let me come, Sir.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” Tony curled the fingers pumping inside me and rubbed his thumb against my clitoris. It was as if he were made to do this, like a sex android.

Fucking delicious.

Ten more seconds and I was seeing stars, spilling all over Tony’s fingers as he worked me through the orgasm. When I could finally breathe again, I did so with deep spasming heaves.

I winked open an eyelid just as Tony extracted his fingers from my pussy. He brought them to his mouth and sucked them dry. Fuck.

“You have pleased me greatly,” Tony said as he licked his thumb. He eyed me, a serious look on his face. “Just as you will please our clients.”

I swallowed, my lower half already aroused at the thought. “I will do whatever is necessary to make the sales happen.”

Tony’s grin returned. “Good girl.” He skirted back around his desk and addressed his Head of Human Resources. “Bill, you may escort Miss Blumenthal to her new office. I’ll have Giselle bring up the contract.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bill rose from his seat and waited for me to do the same. I staggered to my feet and wobbled a bit, like a newborn baby deer or some shite. Bill didn’t lend a hand to stabilize me as he led the way out of Tony’s office and down a different corridor.

I shouldn’t love Bill’s apparent detachment, but I do. I fucking cherish it. It gives me something to work toward.

I strive to surprise and delight Tony until he resembles the happy man in that picture again, all easy and human. And I strive to figure out what makes Bill tick.

When we enter my office, I am suddenly hit with the realization that I got the job of my dreams. £85,000 salary plus a car and travel perks. And whatever kinky shite this company apparently condones in spades.

I’m fucking lucky.

I stride toward my desk and sink down into the plush cushioned chair. It’s like heaven on a hatstand. I glance up to where Bill is still standing in the doorframe, his hulking figure leaving very little room on either side to squeeze by him.

Head of the protection detail? Yeah, I can see that.

I grin like a lunatic, beaming with pride as I splay my hands over the cherry wood desk that glows with the late afternoon sun streaming in through my office window that looks out over West London.

I see a flicker of something in Bill’s eyes, but I’m not sure exactly what. A warmth blooms in my chest, either way. I smile at him.

Bill nods his head. “We’ll have the contract ready for you to sign at four o’clock. Be at Tony’s door around then.”

“Okay.”

Bill nods again. “Welcome to Steele’s, Belinda.”

Then he’s gone, and I’m left alone in my new office. I twirl around in my chair, my hands dancing above my head and a hysterical giggle burbling just behind my lips.

Steele’s Pots and Pans.

What will you bring me next?


End file.
